Secret
by Princess Garen
Summary: In the midst of chaos and threats of war, secrets are made. The Only Truth Universe. GarenxKatarina.


_EDIT: As of the time of posting is being a bitch about uploading. _

_Long awaited and something I've been working on for a very long time, a GarenxKat smut-fic._

_If you've been reading The Only Truth, the first bit may be a bit repetitive for you, but I wanted to write it so it could stand alone, so I did a bit of recapping. I won't lie, I was very hesitant to write this. After so much unintentional build up, I'm afraid nothing will live up to you, the readers', expectations. YOLO. I like it, had fun, and learned, so I consider it a success. _

_As with the TalonxLux smut-fic, I don't want to waste anyone's time: if you're looking for some crazy explicit stuff, please keep looking, you won't find it here. I'm trying to maintain some semblance of realism...I like the feels!_

_Finally...Introducing Garen Crownguard, the keeper of male chastity. Isn't he adorabus!?_

* * *

_Secret_

* * *

At 27 years of age, Garen Crownguard was not unfamiliar with sex. In theory, anyway. Military life provided enough locker-room insight of the experience that the Commander felt certain of two things: his understanding of the intricacies and that he was not missing anything. Before his promotion to commander he disagreed with such a sentiment, but the longer he endured without such an encounter, the less important it seemed. The military was demanding as were parents and years passed in which he spared his desires only fleeting amounts of attention; discipline could overcome most of his strongest urges. Most. With a certain degree of shame, he could take care of the rest.

And then she came along and destroyed all of his carefully exercised restraints.

The first time he officially encountered her, Katarina DuCouteau was leading a small contingent of Noxians in a surprise attack on the main Demacian camp. He hadn't known it then but their goal was retrieving the remains of a Noxian brute named Sion which were being escorted back to Demacia as proof of his defeat. He'd read her file, knew she was supposedly a very skilled assassin, but all the commander could think was, _this woman is insane. She'll never win. _Of course winning was not the objective; his pride had blinded him and she'd anticipated that perfectly. Their fight had only been a distraction while Sion's body was stolen from right under their noses.

That _fight_... He was _breathless_ from their combat in more ways than one. Never had he battled a swordsman who matched him in skill. It was exhilarating. He'd assumed the weak knees that followed at the memory were a side effect of the excitement of having a rival.

But that night, his discipline was not stronger than his desire. Her image festered in his mind like a cancer and, despite his best attempts, it floated to the surface of his mind in the most erotic of ways. In the privacy of his tent, he relieved his dark, vulgar secret and hoped from the same depraved part of his heart they'd meet in combat again.

It wasn't over the clash of steel that he faced her again, though. Months later during their occupation of Kalamanda it was at the Hasty Hammer Bar over drinks that they next met. Garen had long since overcome the physical needs her face seemed to impose on him, pushed it aside as simply a passing impulse. The new wall of discipline he'd crafted was unceremoniously ripped apart when she slid into the seat next to him and drank with him.

Dizzy and buzzed, he had to satisfy himself that night, too.

After that he encountered her frequently in negotiations between their city-states over rights to mine in Kalamanda. The commander never wanted to be in politics; if there was one aspect of being a Champion for Demacia he didn't like, it was his status as a representative. Nothing made him feel more stupid than speaking in front of groups, especially when that group contained a particular red-headed assassin. She was clever and as quick to smile as she was to threaten, sometimes both to his increasing confusion. He had to have been falling victim to some kind of Noxian ploy; he couldn't wipe that grin from his mind, so he couldn't focus on political tactics. His hand began to linger a moment longer than necessary during handshakes, his gaze fixed on her cherry-red lips. Sometimes he could swear he caught her vivid green eyes flashing away from him as his blue ones flicked toward her.

The illusion of his discipline was effectively shattered by the time ten months of negotiations failed and war broke out in Kalamanda. Under Jarvan's orders he sought her out in combat in order to keep her from interfering with Jarvan's attempts to kill Swain. They beat each other into the ground until she was literally pinned beneath him; he'd never meant to kiss her.

After what he did, he wasn't even spared the indignities of seeing her again. Jarvan expected him to help her investigate the Black Rose and Noxian involvement in Kalamanda as she searched for their influence in her father's disappearance. To the best of his ability, he pretended nothing happened, tried to treat her like the Noxian she was, an effort that was in vain, he found. She wasn't the terrible person Demacia made her out to be. Beneath her Noxian exterior was a woman who loved her family and it provided him a different perspective. He could no longer think in absolutes; he drifted toward a muddled shade of gray.

It was in the middle of nowhere on their way to Noxus when she made it apparent that he wasn't the only one with socially unacceptable cravings. He couldn't, hadn't even tried to stop her from kissing him. The moans he dragged from her mouth as he touched her body were obscene but that didn't hinder him either; his exploration had only ceased when he realized she offered no resistance. It was the terror of her reciprocated desire that drove him to abandon her that night.

After that, he'd confronted her once, tried to cut ties and the words she'd whispered haunted him: Is it a mistake if no one finds out? It was the last thing he contemplated as he fell asleep, the first thing he thought of the next morning, and what he remembered when she appeared beside him as Jarvan delivered their account of the condemning information on the Institute.

After the announcement, the Sinister Blade's presence in Demacia was no longer secret and he'd assigned himself to escorting her for the sake of peace. When she demanded that he buy her lunch, the weak feelings in his knees returned full force; if he really, _really_ tried, he could almost envision that their time together wasn't about duty, but instead, romance. A date. They talked about their childhood's, likes and dislikes, all the things the commander knew to be indicative of courtship; he felt insane chasing the thought in circles around his mind. When the sun began to set and she asked to see the pier, he finally broke.

"Why are we doing this?" he questioned, unable to keep the nervous edge from his tone. "The dinner, the pier..." The longer he spoke the more ridiculous he felt. "Never mind," he mumbled under his breath.

He was surprised when Katarina's cheeks colored. "Don't you owe me for something?" she joked weakly.

Blue eyes flicked from the ocean to regard the woman beside him, her face relaxed in a contented smile; the mask she wore was discarded for just a moment and in that moment he realized the extent of his feelings. He was certain the assassin could hear his heartbeat from where she stood as he choked out the words, "Come home with me."

Hands clasped tight, they strode through the alleys of Demacia under the cover of darkness toward the empty Crownguard manor. Garen's heart was racing and his trembling hands fumbled the keys trying to get them in the lock. The door was scarcely shut before he cupped Katarina's face in his hands and had her pressed against the surface in a fervent kiss she eagerly returned.

Fingers callused from years of combat drifted from her cheeks to the back of her neck where they tangled in her hair; he pulled lightly, tilting her head just enough to place a line of kisses down her jaw line, her throat, the hollow point between her collar bones. His other hand unclasped her jacket and pushed aside the collar, earning breathy whimpers as he left a trail of marks in his wake.

Finally her commanding voice brushed against his ear, a note of urgency present as she gasped, "Garen, I want you."

At that, the Demacian seemed to regain himself; he let out a short, hesitant sound and pulled away mumbling, "Are you sure?" he wanted so badly just to comply, but he needed to know.

A flash of annoyance alighted briefly on the red-head's face, but softened immediately into understanding. She hadn't expected any questions and almost immediately considered lying just to avoid the truth. How was it possible that the enemy was one of the few people she trusted completely? That, in spite of her resistance he'd somehow reached inside her and ripped out all the emotions she'd tried to bury. But she'd come this far already so she reached out and touched his cheek, a tender smile reserved only from him tugging at the corners of her lips. "I made my choice," she whispered, "and it's you."

A slow smile lit his face and the tension that was coiled in his chest as he waited for her answer unwound. "Sleep with me," she said, her voice less insistent but still unwavering.

In response, the soldier leaned in for another kiss. The assassin, though, had other plans for his compliance; she intercepted his face with her hand, a devilish grin replacing the soft smile. "First, I'm gonna need you to take all this armor off," she informed imperiously. "And I'm gonna need you to do it now."

He couldn't remember ever following an order faster.

With the help of her deft fingers his pauldrons, chain vest and bucklers fell to the floor. He couldn't stop the heady moan in his throat as her tongue slipped between his lips. Katarina reached around him to struggle with his belt, the last piece of armor standing between them, and murmured a triumphant sound as it fell between them.

Loosening his hold on her hips, Garen moved one hand to drift across Katarina's stomach and cup her breast in his hand, dragging a breathless sound from the assassin. His knees nearly buckled when he felt one of her hands fall from around his neck to just under his belt and start to stroke him through the thin fabric of his pants.

Abruptly he broke away from her lips and murmured, "I've never done... this before." Katarina blinked in surprise, her hands falling to her sides, and said nothing as she looked thoughtfully at the Demacian.

Garen suddenly felt self-conscious. "Is that... ok?" Was she going to laugh at him, think him less of a man? Maybe he shouldn't have said anything... if what'd he'd heard about the first time was true, he was going to end up embarrassing himself.

But the assassin gave him an incredulous look and shook her head. "Why wouldn't it be, idiot?" she questioned. When he leaned into her hand and shrugged, a fiesty smirk spread slowly across her face. "Oh, I get it," she grinned. "Just trust me, it'll be fine."

He gave her a quizzical look as she took his hand and led him down the hall into the study. The only time the assassin had been in here she'd been incredibly drunk, so she was determined to give him a better reason to remember the room.

"You'll wanna sit down for this," she promised. He raised no protest as she pushed him onto one of the sofas in the room before sinking to the floor between his knees, her spiked boots scratching the wood. She made quick work of the buttons on his pants and eagerly pulled at the fabric, baring the entirety of his length to her.

He meant to ask, 'What are you doing?' but the only thing he managed to get out was, "Wha-" followed by a strangled moan as she slid her tongue from the base of his shaft to the tip.

"What was that?" she teased, flashing him a seductive smile as she slid her hand around his erection, lazy and tortuously slow.

"_Kat_..." was all the Demacian could muster, his eyes fixed on the sight of her hand; all ability to form coherent thoughts had long since fled his mind.

Katarina laughed in return, then enclosed the tip of him in her welcoming mouth, causing the commander to let out another groan of pleasure, his fingers curling into his palms. Speechless and dazed, he couldn't think, aware only of the sensation of her mouth sucking at the head of him. A guttural sound escaped his throat as she took more of his length between her lips and, unable to tear his eyes away, Garen buried one his hands gently in her crimson locks. He shouldn't be letting this happen, she shouldn't even _be_ here but _god,_ she was irresistable with her red lips and convincing hands.

His breathing grew heavier as her pace gradually quickened. The sight was overwhelming and his pleasure was mounting, though he struggled to keep the building pressure at bay. But she was relentless and the desire too much; his fingers tightened in her hair and the tension begging for release forced him to mumble, "K-Katarina, I-I'm..."

The Noxian interrupted his statement with a short, throaty laugh, but she didn't stop. One of his hands clutched tightly at the sofa while the other grasped desperately at the back of her head as he could no longer fight the inevitable. With a husky cry, Garen gave in and let the waves of ecstasy jolt through him, pushing his fluids into her mouth. She didn't pull away, continuing her attentions until there was nothing left and he was slack against the cushions.

Looking uncharacteristically shy, the red-head rose to straddle him, rubbing the back of her hand across her mouth. "So," she grinned, "What do you think? Inspired yet?"

In answer, he pulled her into a fierce kiss. "I... why?" he questioned as he broke away from her, a lost expression on his face.

With a knowing smile, Katarina answered, "Because the first time is always the fastest."

A stab of embarrassment hit him at 'fast,' but the meaning behind her statement dawned on the commander after a moment. With a grin of his own, he seized her by the waist, left a savage kiss on her neck, and teased, "So you're just being selfish."

Lips curved in a smile, she let out a quiet moan as he marked her. "Is that so wrong?" she breathed.

"No, but now I think I want to be a little selfish," he replied before capturing her lips with his own. With his help, the assassin shrugged off her jacket and when the garment had been discarded on the floor, she eagerly began to tug at the laces keeping her top in place. There was the soft sound of fabric sliding on skin and when he broke from her lips he was greeted by her topless form.

He couldn't help but exhale in awe, earning a smug look from the woman in his lap, but he allowed her no time for playful banter. With one hand at the small of her back, Garen held her in place as he bent to take the peak of her breast in his mouth. A pleasured gasp escaped her and her green eyes fluttered shut as he sucked at one, then the other, until both were slick and she was twitching. She made a disappointed sound when he pulled away, but it quickly became one of surprise as he grasped her backside and stood.

"Where are we going?" she asked, wrapping her legs around his hips.

He grinned. "I've got plans for you."

The pair stumbled from the room and only made it halfway up the stairwell before he set her down to lose his shirt and help yank the tight leather pants from her legs, leaving her in only her black silk panties. It took all his self-control to carry her the remaining short distance to his bedroom.

Lips locked, he stumbled his way into the bedroom and dropped her on his bed where he followed her scramble onto the pillows. He pressed his mouth again to her breasts, but quickly began to stray, trailing kisses down her stomach; she opened her mouth but any words she'd been about to speak were lost in a sharp gasp when he reached the area just beside her hips. The commander slid his tentative hands up her thighs, nipped at the creamy skin until she was squirming beneath him.

Katarina moaned, "Garen, ah, I swear, if you stop-!" but her threat finished in a short whimper as his mouth reached the sensitive area between her legs. Through the damp fabric he could feel the heat radiating from her core; the intimacy was dizzying. He wondered if she would object to more and hooked his probing fingers under the band of the garment and inched it down, just enough to reveal a hint of the trim red curls beneath. He met no resistance though and in fact, she bucked beneath his touch and simply uttered, _"Please," _so he pushed to his knees and slid the clothing down her legs.

Beautiful would have been an understatement. She was everything he'd never known he wanted until that moment, and the sudden clarity was staggering. Bared to him completely, he couldn't help but stare, trying desperately to memorize every curve, every scar. His hands wandered over her hips, waist, breasts, before stopping to take her face as he planted a chaste kiss on her lips.

When he pulled away, blue eyes met green and it was she who averted her gaze first, unable to stop the blush that spread across her cheeks. "I feel like such a child," she chuckled, though she made no move to cover her nude form.

"I have no idea what I'm doing," he blurted. "If that makes you feel any better."

At that she laughed, the motion sending her breasts to bouncing and increasing his arousal. "Well I've only got one piece of advice," she joked. "Don't. Stop."

A lopsided smirk alighted on his face and Garen kissed her again, swallowing her surprised moan as he slipped his tongue between her lips. He quickly broke the kiss, letting his fingers explore the nuances of her body as he moved south. When he finally came to the soft patch at the apex of her legs, he couldn't help but hesitate as his doubts twisted his stomach into knots. He only had a vague idea of how to proceed but he'd be damned if he showed his inexperience.

Katarina's fingers tightened in his hair and she let out a soft cry of pleasure as he buried his face between her legs, slid his tongue up the length of her wet folds. Her directions came out in a jumble of words,"There, nohigher_oh_, yeah, right_there, _just like_ that-" _but he followed them dutifully and was rewarded by her high-pitched whimpers of his name. Beneath his grasp, her hips jerked against his face and he shifted his gaze upward to see that her eyes were shut now in satisfaction, a flush under her cheeks and her bottom lip between her teeth. He couldn't help but grin, pride swelling in his chest; and he'd heard his soldiers complain that women were too hard to please?

Garen closed his eyes, greedily taking in her scent, her taste, the feeling of her writhing under his hands. Knowing he could do this for her was exhilarating and, at the same time, terrifying. When had their relationship become _this_, and why did he feel so certain about something that was, by all accounts, _wrong?_

He was snapped from his reverie when the assassin's breathing grew ragged, her legs tight around his shoulders, and she stammered, "D-don't... stop!" Within moments her quiet screams had reached a peak and she shuddered against him, crying his name as the waves of her orgasm coursed through her. He held her tight until finally the woman let out a giggly moan and pushed him away. "You can stop now!" she gasped.

As she begged a moment to compose herself, the commander rubbed his face into the sheets, mentally congratulating himself. There was _something _he could add to his future repertoire. His intent had been to climb back to her side but as he moved to do so, the assassin shoved against his shoulder, sending him wide-eyed onto his back.

"I want you right now," she demanded, all but ripping his briefs from his hips and freeing the erection that was previously strained against the cloth. Aching with need, he groaned as she bent to capture his lips in her own and swing a leg over him, trapping him beneath her; the wet heat radiating from her was maddening.

And yet, even in the moment he'd only dreamt of, one last nagging stab of anxiety tightened his chest. If somehow anyone ever found out about this his career would be over faster than he could blink. The struggle on his face must have been plain because Katarina added, "Relax, no one is gonna know."

"I know," he admitted. "It's just... this is supposed to be wrong-"

Katarina interrupted him with a deep kiss, forcing his doubts to wither in his throat. "Does that feel wrong?" she questioned as her lips shifted to his ears, then neck.

He mumbled a short, "No," so with a smirk she took his hands in hers and squeezed them around her breasts. "And these?"

"Definitely not," he rumbled.

The assassin let out a short laugh, then dropped down his body to trail her tongue across his hardened length. "What about this?" she teased.

The commander had to bite back a whimper. "No."

Satisfied, she crawled back up his body to kiss him again, the thick waves of her hair forming a veil around them. "I know it doesn't make sense," she said, "but what I _do _know is that I need to be with you."

The last shreds of his hesitation fell away then as he finally understood what she'd meant when she said she'd chosen him; her conflict was the same but she wouldn't let the politics of the world around them dictate her life. And faced with the first thing he'd ever wanted for himself, Garen made his decision. "I need you too," he answered truthfully before pulling her down for another kiss. When they parted, the mischievous smile to which he'd grown so accustomed returned to her face.

"So, are we done talking?" she grinned, eyes glassy with lust as she took his cock in her hands.

In an instant his mind was devoid of anything that didn't involve her and he was scarcely able to get out the word, "_Yes_." There was a brief pause as she positioned the head of him at her entrance, anticipation as clear on her face as it was his; then she eased herself onto him with a mutual groan.

For a moment he couldn't think, couldn't _breathe_. Her slick, wet core burned tight around him and he could swear he was seeing stars, all his senses pushed into overdrive. He gasped her name, clung to her hips as though he'd lose himself if he let go. When, after a moment, she slowly slid back up the length of him, all the breath he'd been holding rushed from his lungs in a strangled whine. He'd had his taste and now he needed, craved, the completion she granted him. The assassin flushed under the look of adoration on his face, granting his unspoken yet transparent desire as she rode him.

There was nothing about her that didn't entice him more. The subtle bounce of her breasts with every movement, the way her folds enveloped him- it was all too much to take in and he was powerless to stop the blissful moans that escaped his mouth. He breathed her name as if it were sacred, slid his hands over her thighs and waist before entwining their fingers. And gradually, a passionate spark replaced the glazed wonder in his eyes until finally he growled, "I want more."

The Noxian was afforded no time to reply as his arms encircled her and she went tumbling into the sheets, their positions reversed. Garen cupped her face in his hand, thumb trailing over the scar on her cheek and was surprised when she leaned into his touch and planted a tender kiss on his palm. Then he felt her fingers around him, leading them back together.

The motion was awkward at first as he adjusted to the control, but Katarina gave him an encouraging smile that stilled his worries. After a moment something in him clicked and her smile gave way to heady moans as he found a rhythm that worked for them both. Her legs wrapped around his hips and she dug one hand into his muscled back and pressed the other to the headboard, pulling him closer with every thrust. Though the commander needed one hand to support himself, the other seemed to have its own agenda: It danced across her skin, flitting over the light scars on her stomach, the gentle slopes of her collar bones, the areas that made her writhe.

God, she was beautiful. _What in the world,_ he wondered,_ was this woman doing with him?_

"Garen," she panted, voice raw with need, "Faster, please_oh,_ god-"

Her commands, that _voice_; he was sure he would never be able to deny her anything she asked. He quickened his pace as best he could, hips rocking against hers with more intensity until there was nothing else in his world; it all revolved around her. Everything had been reduced to sensation: the feeling of her silky skin, her panting moans in his ear, her fingers curved like claws in his back, the wet heat of her around his cock- he was overwhelmed by her and the sensation became too great. "Kat," he groaned, "I'm gonna come..."

The red-head answered with a nod before drawing his lips to hers. He persisted for only a few more moments and suddenly his eyes were shut and he _was _seeing stars. With a short cry, Garen buried himself inside her with clumsy, uneven thrusts as he came, barely even aware that she was sighing his name. When his vision cleared, his forehead was resting on her chest and it felt as though he would fall apart from the trembling in his limbs. He felt her hands on cheeks pulling him up for a deep kiss that only added to his breathlessness. She smiled, then pushed against his shoulder, meeting no resistance as he toppled to his side.

"Katarina," he whispered, eyes closed and facing the ceiling. "That was amazing."

Katarina let out a laugh and fit herself into his side. "I'm glad you think so," she purred.

With an embarrassed grin on his face, the commander took her hand and added, "I'll get better. Next time." He averted his eyes. "I mean, if there is a next time."

Her slender hand slid down the sharp contours of his chest to pat his spent cock. "You're fine," she assured. "Besides, this is a long-term investment. I expect some good returns."

The Demacian gave her an incredulous look, then both burst into a fit of laughter. "Where the hell did that come from?" he finally choked out.

"No fucking idea," she replied easily. "But I'm serious. I'm throwing in my lot with you, so don't let me down."

His laughter faded and instinctively, he pulled her to his chest, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "You have my word," he swore. "I'm not backing out of this."

Her grin faded to thoughtful smile, then her eyes closed and she buried her face into his shoulder. "Good," she yawned. "Cause I think I kinda like you."

He chuckled, letting his own eyes droop closed. "Yeah, I kinda like you too."

The chaos of the world around had thrown the two together despite all reason and outside their room, a war was just beginning. But the traitors held each other close and for one night, nothing else mattered.


End file.
